The Fall
by abbywesten
Summary: Mac is seriously injured during a mission. Jack's there for him, as always. Mac whump.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! I'm enjoying this particular fandom so much lately that I decided to try my hand at a multi-chapter fic. No spoilers or direct relation to any episode. Just good old fashioned Mac whump and bromance between our two favorite secret agents. I don't own them, alas. I hope you enjoy! -abby_

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"'S okay, mm okay," Mac's slurred reassurances may have held more weight if his pallor hadn't resembled that of a ghost.

And if he hadn't just fallen off a building.

"Sure you are, brother. But just humor me and don't move." Jack replied in a voice stretched thin by stress. Mere seconds before, he'd watched with horror as Mac fought with their suspected bomber, a huge man easily outweighing the young agent by at least 200 pounds. Jack, from his location outside, had been too far away to do much but yell as the two men grappled on the ledge of an abandoned warehouse. Then his heart had leapt into his throat as they fell in what seemed to be appallingly slow motion before hitting the ground - more than three stories below - with a sickening crunch.

 _Oh god. Oh my god. Please be alive. Please._ Jack ran faster than he ever had in his life and dropped to his knees by his partner's prone farm.

The suspect was clearly dead, having taken the brunt of the fall. A pool of blood spread rapidly around the man's head, and Jack hoped fervently that MacGyver had somehow landed on top of his substantial bulk.

Mac had been thrown clear upon impact and lay on his left side a few feet away, eyes closed, arms and legs akimbo, lax fingertips just inside the spreading pool of gore. Blood trickled from both his nose and mouth and he was frighteningly still. _Mac's never still._ Jack hesitated for the briefest of seconds before reaching a shaking hand over to check for a pulse. _He has to be alive. He has to be,_ Jack thought. The alternative was unimaginable.

But before Jack could even touch his friend, Mac gasped. Blue eyes fluttered then opened wide, and a low groan escaped the young man's throat.

"Mac? Buddy? You with me?" Jack placed a gentle hand on the side of Mac's face. He could see the effort it took just for the injured man to keep his eyes open, which is why Jack wasn't even close to buying the reflexive, garbled attempts at reassurance.

"Mmmm," Mac moaned quietly, his eyelids flickering before falling shut once more.

"You took a pretty bad fall, pal." _Understatement of the century_ , Jack thought. "Don't move, okay? I'm going to call for help." Jack pulled out his phone, but kept his other hand on Mac's cheek. He brushed a blood-matted lock of hair out of his friend's eyelashes as he waited for the seemingly interminable satellite connection to Riley. _Come on, hurry up!_

She answered on the first ring. "Jack? What's going on? I just lost Mac's cell signal. You guys okay?"

"He must've landed on his phone," Jack replied absently, his attention divided between the young woman and his injured partner. "We need an ambulance, Ri. Mac's hurt pretty bad." Mac groaned again and started to shift under his hand. "Mac? Shh," he soothed. "Hang in there. Help's coming. Don't move, buddy." Mac pulled in a shuddering breath and stilled.

"Jack?" Riley's slim fingers flew over her keyboard some 5000 miles away, easily dispatching an ambulance to the location of Jack's phone. "Jack, answer me. King's Cross hospital is less than six miles from you. An ambulance is on the way, but what happened? Jack? Jack!"

The older agent was only half-listening to the escalating panic in Riley's tone. He pressed his fingers into Mac's neck, searching desperately for a pulse. What he found was worryingly fast and thready. "It's bad, Ri. He fell," Jack said simply. Riley's concern jumped several notches at both the cryptic answer and the obvious strain in Jack's voice. "Just...just tell Matty. I'll call you from the hospital." Jack ended the call over Riley's anxious protests and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

"Mac? Brother? Do you hear me?" Jack swept his fingers gently through the young man's hair. Mac's shallow breathing had sped up until he was almost panting as he tried desperately to keep the pain in check. His entire body was screaming in agony, particularly along his left rib cage. Nerve endings lit up as though on fire. His head pounded mercilessly, along with everything else, and he knew that something was broken inside. A small whimper slipped through Mac's tight controls and he felt Jack grab his fingers in response. "...h-hurts," he slurred weakly.

Jack's heart skipped a beat at the admission. _Oh, kid. You fell off a building. My god._ "I know. I know, bud. But you're going to be fine. Try to slow your breathing, okay?" He breathed in and out slowly to demonstrate. Mac's bloodshot eyes opened again as he tried to follow suit. "Good, that's good, buddy. In and out, nice and easy," Jack said encouragingly, despite the fear that pulled a tight knot in his belly.

He skimmed cautious hands over his friend's broken body, and a sharp intake of breath told Jack that there were more than a few busted ribs along one side. Mac's neck and spine both seemed intact - _thank god_ \- but Jack knew better than to try and move him to a more comfortable position. Dark bruising was already blossoming along Mac's jawline and under both eyes. Blood continued dripping from his swelling nose and the side of his mouth, and Jack gently wiped it away with his own shirttail. He went back to gripping Mac's hand firmly, careful not to squeeze too hard. Jack could hear sirens approaching, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. "You hang in there, brother. Stay with me. Help is almost here."

Mac didn't have it in him to reply. It was taking all of his energy just to stay awake. He suddenly felt very cold, and some distant part of his brain acknowledged that he was going into shock. It was a strange sensation, but he didn't have the chance to dwell. Just then an ambulance screeched into the alley and stopped a few yards away, as two City of London police cars pulled in from the other direction.

The paramedic team immediately started assessing their patient as they listened to Jack's quick sitrep. Within moments they had Mac safely rolled from his side and strapped to a backboard, with a cervical collar around his neck and oxygen mask over his face.

"He's stable," one of the paramedics said to Jack. "You coming?"

"Absolutely." Jack snagged the nearest uniformed officer. "Hey, I'm going with my partner. I'll be at the hospital, or you can contact Matty Weber at the Phoenix Foundation." He barely waited for the constable's nod before jumping into the back of the waiting ambulance.

"Jack?" MacGyver's voice was shaky and hardly more than a whisper. His arms were restrained by the gurney's straps but trembling fingers stretched out, blindly searching for his friend. Mac couldn't move his head, couldn't see anything but the overhead lights, could hardly hear anything over the thundering in his skull. "Jack?"

"I'm here, buddy. Right here." Jack again clasped the ice cold fingers in his own, and felt the young man relax fractionally. He leaned forward into Mac's line of vision. "I gotcha, okay?"

Mac closed his eyes, finally surrendering to the blissful pull of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for all of the kind reviews! Feedback is always appreciated, and I do hope y'all continue to enjoy. -abby_

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It took a long time for MacGyver to find his way to something resembling awareness. When he first came near the surface, it felt as though he was swimming through quicksand. Sounds were muted, except for a persistent beeping he couldn't quite place, and somehow he was both miserably cold and comfortably warm at the same time. His whole body felt strangely heavy and dense, as if gravity had suddenly gone awry. Through the haze, Mac was also vaguely aware of a slight weight on his right hand. It was warm and rough and seemed like it should be familiar, but thinking was too hard and the darkness too tempting.

Without even trying to open his eyes, Mac let himself fall back into the void.

Jack watched his partner hopefully, his hand covering the younger man's as it had for countless hours already. Mac stirred momentarily, eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids, but just as quickly he stilled.

"Not quite ready, huh? That's okay, pal." Jack gently squeezed his friend's slack fingers. "Take your time. I'll be here."

The older agent patted Mac's hand affectionately before he let it go and leaned back. He squirmed, trying yet again to find a comfortable position in the sorry excuse for a bedside chair. After a moment he gave up and stood, restlessly prowling around the room. As he paced, Jack noticed the time at the exact instant that his phone started vibrating in his pocket. _Matty._ The Phoenix director had established a pattern, and Jack stepped into the corridor to give her the regular every-six-hours status update.

"Not much to report, Matty," Jack said flatly. "Thought maybe he was wakin' up a little while ago, but not yet. Soon, I hope."

At Matty's brusque assurance that she would relay the information to Riley, Jack ended the call and slipped back into Mac's room. Settling in the chair, he resumed his silent vigil at his partner's side.

Some hours later, Mac floated near wakefulness again. This time he fought, pushing through the fog with every bit of strength he could muster. But once Mac finally managed to pry open his eyes, he instantly wished he hadn't. Despite the room's dim evening light, what had been only a faint headache quickly spiked into migraine territory.

"Mmmm," he moaned softly, drawing the attention of a slumped figure in the bedside chair.

"Mac?" Jack immediately sat up straight and grasped his partner's hand. A relieved grin crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. "Bud? You really with me this time?"

"...J-Jack?" Mac's throat and lips were so dry he could barely form words. The cool oxygen tracing into his nose via cannula only made the sensation worse, and he coughed weakly.

Jack seemed to sense Mac's plight. The older man grabbed a spoon and styrofoam cup from a nearby table, then fished out an ice chip and spoon fed it to his friend. "Here you go. Better?"

Mac nodded slightly, wincing as his head protested the movement. His entire skull pounded, his nose throbbed dully, and it was incredibly hard to focus. "Thanks," he whispered. "What...happened?"

With a heavy sigh, Jack spooned another piece of ice into Mac's mouth. "What do you remember?"

Mac let the ice melt on his tongue, relishing the soothing feel in the back of his throat. Before answering, he studied Jack's face critically. His partner looked exhausted and uncharacteristically tense, and Mac wondered how long he'd been out. After a moment Mac closed his eyes, trying to recall exactly how he ended up in the hospital. "Bombing," he said softly.

"That's right," Jack confirmed. "At the Ukrainian embassy in London. What else?"

"Um…" Mac trailed off with a cough. "Briefing...with Matty." He coughed again, grunting at the subsequent pain in his ribs. "That's...all."

"No problem. The doctor predicted a little memory loss." Jack smiled reassuringly and offered Mac another ice chip as as he explained. "It'll come back. Anyway, that briefing was a week ago, bud. And you've been out for about, oh," Jack checked his watch, "46 hours now." Mac listened silently as Jack succinctly recapped their mission and the last several days. "If our bomber hadn't been the size of a small planet I'm not sure we'd be having this conversation," he concluded.

MacGyver shifted uncomfortably, stifling a gasp as a lightning bolt of pain suddenly shot through his left leg. Whatever drugs they had him on were largely keeping the agony at bay, but Mac could tell he was in rough shape. In addition to the oxygen line and an IV catheter, he could feel the pull of heart monitor leads on his chest and a pulse oximeter clipped to his left index finger. Not to mention the tubes trailing under the blanket that he decided not to think about. "What's the damage?"

"I'll let the doctor give you the details but it's quite a list. Broken ribs, concussion, fractured nose - no displacement, though, so no need to worry about that youthful face of yours," Jack teased gently. "Didn't even need a bandage." He gestured at the deep purple bruising that started at the bridge of Mac's nose and continued into dark circles under both eyes. "Oh, and you cracked your left hip, but it should heal without surgery. You'll be off your feet for a while but brother, you are damn lucky to be alive."

"Mmm," the younger man replied tiredly. _No wonder everything hurts. Apparently I fell off a building._

A nurse appeared out of nowhere and Jack did his best to stay out of the way as she bustled around the bed, checking her patient's vitals and asking a series of questions. Mac struggled to answer as coherently as possible, but he felt as though his skull was packed with cotton and besides, he had absolutely no clue what day it was. Regardless, the nurse seemed satisfied with his mumbled responses and she soon left, promising that a doctor would be in shortly.

By then Mac couldn't bring himself to care about the doctor or much of anything else. He was rapidly losing the battle to keep his eyes open, and barely noticed when Jack reached over and pressed a button on the equipment connected to his IV. Within seconds Mac felt a rush of warmth spread through his veins. As the jagged edges of pain smoothed, he drifted.

Just before the darkness reclaimed him, Mac felt Jack's hand on his and heard the soft Texas accent. "You really scared the hell outta me this time, bud." Even half-asleep, he could recognize the worry in his friend's tone but was too far gone to respond. He just managed to squeeze Jack's fingers before he fell back into shadow.

Then Mac knew nothing more.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for all of the awesome feedback! I've really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope the rest of the story meets your expectations. We're getting close to the end - one more chapter to go. Usual disclaimers apply - I don't own them and am no sort of expert in anything. Not anything relevant, anyway. Enjoy! -abby_

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"Easy, bud," Jack ordered. The older agent hovered anxiously, Mac's crutches in one hand and the other outstretched, as his partner laboriously swung his legs out of the car. "Easy. Let me help."

Mac rolled his eyes, but gripped the extended arm and allowed Jack to gently pull him out of the passenger seat. Once upright, he tucked the crutches under his arms and started the painful trek to his front door. The doctors had insisted that Mac needed to keep weight completely off his injured left hip in order for it to heal properly, but using crutches with broken ribs was no picnic. Mac had quickly discovered that smooth motion was the key to minimize jarring his ribs, but that meant moving at a snail's pace with - of course - Jack scrutinizing his every step.

Inside the house, Jack's hovering continued. "You should sit down," he suggested when Mac made no indication of heading for the couch.

"I was sitting in the car," Mac pointed out. "And on the plane. And before that, I was trapped in a hospital bed for days. I'm _okay_ , Jack."

"Yep, and I'm the queen of England," Jack drawled sarcastically. " _Okay_ or not, you do know I'm stayin' right here until Bozer gets back from his grandmother's funeral."

Mac just shook his head. He certainly knew that there was little point in arguing. Once Jack entered what Riley referred to as 'mother hen mode' it was almost impossible to talk him down. And for whatever reason, he had been more protective than usual ever since Mac first woke up in the hospital. The older man had hardly left Mac's side for days on end. He had dozed in the bedside chair and showered in the tiny bathroom. He would leave only long enough pick up some of the abysmal hospital cafeteria food, which he always brought back to eat in Mac's room. Occasionally he would step out in the corridor to call Matty, Riley or Bozer. Otherwise, he'd stuck to his partner like glue. Mac smiled faintly at the thought of his friend's dogged devotion as he slowly made his way through the house onto the deck.

Once outside, he finally set the crutches down and lowered his battered, aching body into a chair near the fire pit. For a long moment Mac just enjoyed the view, staring out at the familiar city skyline and breathing as deeply as his broken ribs would allow. Six days in the hospital and then a lengthy flight back from London had him feeling claustrophobic, and he relished simply being home and outside in the California sunshine.

It was no surprise when Jack appeared within minutes and plopped into the neighboring chair. He wordlessly offered Mac a bottle of water and a couple of pills. Mac accepted the water but ignored the meds entirely.

"You need to stay ahead of the pain, bud," Jack reminded his friend patiently, the same way he had every four hours since Mac's release from the hospital. "I know you're feeling decent now, but that's because you've got a good buildup of the drug in your system. You're gonna be hurtin' once it starts to wear off."

Mac sighed and held out his hand, then obediently swallowed the pills. He set the water bottle down and again relaxed into the chair, resting his head against the back. Mac felt the drugs begin to kick in, and he was so warm and comfortable in the late afternoon sun that it wasn't long before he drifted off.

"No, no. No! _No!_ Please! Don't do it!"

MacGyver jolted awake, hissing as pain flared in his ribs. It took a few seconds for his medicated brain to catch up but soon he realized that Jack had dozed too, and was talking in his sleep. The worried protests coming from the older agent grew progressively louder, finally culminating in something that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob. " _No! Mac!_ "

"Jack. Jack! It's okay. I'm right here!" It wasn't the first time over the years that MacGyver had witnessed his friend having a nightmare, but something about this one seemed different. Mac's brow furrowed in concern as he tried to wake the other man. "Jack!"

Finally Jack awakened to see worried blue eyes, still shadowed by yellowing bruises, studying him intently. "What's going on?" he asked Mac. "You okay?"

"I wasn't the one having a nightmare," Mac said quietly. "I think I should ask you that same question."

"Huh?" Jack chuckled a little and shook his head. "Just a dream, brother. No big deal."

Mac tilted his own head skeptically but wasn't going to push. _Not yet, anyway._ "If you say so," he shrugged and decided to change the subject. "I'm kinda hungry. How about you?"

A genuine grin spread across Jack's face. "Brother, I've been waiting a solid week to hear you say those words. I'm dyin' for a decent burger. You just can't get a good one in jolly ol' England."

Mac laughed, bracing his left arm protectively against his sore ribcage. "Can't argue with that. Why don't you go grab us a few," he suggested. "I'm going to take a shower."

Jack frowned, narrowing his eyes at his partner. "Hold up. You think I'm just gonna leave you here to shower by yourself?"

Despite the bruises and broken nose, Mac did an admirable job of mirroring his friend's glare. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm a grown man, I showered all by myself at the hospital and I'm _fine,_ Jack!"

"You're unsteady on your feet, have a busted hip and a half-dozen broken ribs," Jack retorted. "What if you fall?"

"I'm not going to fall." Mac raised his voice over Jack's protests and continued, "...but if I do, then I'll just wait for you to come back and help me up. You're not going to be gone for that long." He rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm taking a shower and you can't stop me. So I suggest you hurry it up and get back with those burgers."

After a minute Jack sighed and held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But you be careful. I don't want to have to haul your skinny butt back to the hospital tonight."

"That makes two of us," Mac agreed. "Now get me up."

Jack knelt so that Mac could grab hold of his shoulder then slowly straightened, giving the younger agent much-needed leverage to rise to his feet. He stayed in place, providing support until Mac arranged his crutches and let go.

"You good?" Jack looked concerned. Mac was beginning to think that particular expression was permanently etched on his face.

"Yep," Mac assured his friend, just barely managing to suppress an eye roll. "Would you quit worrying? I'm fine once I'm standing. Now get out of here." He leaned on the crutches and shooed Jack on with a wave of his hand.

Once his reluctant partner was gone, Mac slowly limped his way into the bathroom. He was hurting more than he'd ever admit to Jack so it took quite a while to get undressed, especially since he couldn't lift his left arm higher than his shoulder. However, he quickly decided it was worth the effort, because after just a five minute shower he felt about a thousand times better. Mac toweled off, awkwardly struggled into boxers and sweatpants, then briefly debated a t-shirt before deciding it would be too much trouble with his broken ribs. He settled on a hoodie, zipped it up and headed back into the kitchen just as Jack came through the door.

"Hey, you made it," Mac observed, watching his friend juggle bags and drinks.

"So did you," Jack replied with a smile. "And look who I found coming up the front walk."

"Mac!" Riley appeared from behind Jack. She grinned broadly, relief evident on her delicate features. The hacker rushed up to her friend then paused, clearly unsure. "Can I hug you?"

"Gently, Ri," Jack cautioned. "He's basically held together with spit and balin' wire at this point."

Mac chuckled indulgently. "I'm not quite as fragile as all that," he replied, balancing on his good leg and setting his crutches aside so that he could draw Riley into a careful embrace. "It's good to see you."

The young woman leaned into his arms, supporting his weight while keeping her gentle squeeze to his uninjured upper back. "You too, Mac. I'm so glad you're okay. You scared us." She drew away after a moment and looked at him appraisingly.

"So I've heard," Mac said. "I'm going to be fine, Riley. Don't worry."

Riley stayed for dinner, digging through the fridge for some of Bozer's leftover meatloaf and swiping a handful of fries from Jack. The three friends chatted throughout the meal, catching each other up on the events of the last week.

But as much as Mac was loathe to admit it, he still tired easily and it wasn't long before he was feeling pretty wiped. His ribs ached with every breath, and any movement brought a twinge of pain that started in his hip and shot through his left leg all the way to his toes. He pushed away his plate, which still contained half the burger and most of the fries, and rubbed his eyes wearily.

Naturally, Jack noticed immediately. As did Riley, who took it as her cue to leave. She stood and cleared away the remnants of Mac's meal along with her own. "I better head out, guys. I have to be at Phoenix early in the morning. With Bozer on family leave and you two off the roster, Matty has me working on a special data analysis project." Riley rolled her eyes cheerfully, then leaned over to kiss Mac on the cheek. "Take care of yourself. I'll stop by sometime tomorrow."

"Thanks for coming," Mac's smile was genuine, if tired.

Riley waved over her shoulder as she headed for the door. "See ya, Jack. Keep an eye on him."

"You know it," Jack tossed back casually. As soon as she was gone, he turned to his charge. "You didn't eat much," he commented.

Mac shrugged. "I had enough."

Jack sighed. From experience he knew Mac lost his appetite when he was hurting. He checked his watch and shook out a couple more of the painkillers. "Okay. Just about time for another dose, and you clearly need 'em. Don't even argue, man."

To Jack's surprise, no argument was forthcoming. Mac simply took the pills and washed them down with a sip of water. That sealed the deal in Jack's mind, and he knelt down beside his friend. "Come on, bud. Time for bed." Again, Jack was taken aback - and concerned - by Mac's silent acquiescence. Mac didn't say anything, just grabbed onto Jack's shoulder and accepted the help in getting to his feet. He also didn't comment on the supportive hand in the small of his back as he made his way down the hall to his bedroom.

Mere steps from the doorway Mac faltered, but Jack was prepared. He easily caught Mac as his good leg buckled and the crutches clattered to the floor. "Whoa! Those meds really did a number on ya this time, huh?" Mac grunted quietly but didn't protest as Jack gently hefted the smaller man into his arms.

"Here we go," Jack deposited Mac on the side of his bed, then retrieved the crutches and set them against the wall. He watched affectionately as the blond fumbled with the zipper of his hoodie. Between the drowsy expression, floppy hair and clumsy movements Mac looked even younger than usual, and Jack was reminded of a sleepy child. "Okay, kid. Lemme help, or we'll be here all night." He reached over and slid the zipper free, then eased the sweatshirt off Mac's slim shoulders.

Jack couldn't contain a wince at the sight of his friend's injuries. Mottled, swollen bruises along the left side of Mac's prominent ribcage had darkened to an angry bluish purple, appearing almost black in places. A similar contusion engulfed Mac's left hip and disappeared beneath the waist of his sweatpants. "Oh, bud," Jack breathed, stomach clenching at the painfully visible reminder of how close he'd truly come to losing his partner. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath to center himself.

MacGyver didn't seem to notice Jack's reaction. His eyelids were half-mast and he swayed drunkenly, and probably would have fallen off the bed if Jack hadn't been there for support. Without a word, he pliantly allowed Jack to finish removing the hoodie and carefully maneuver his broken body under the sheets.

Satisfied that Mac was comfortable, Jack stood and turned to leave. At first he thought he was hearing things when an almost unintelligible whisper reached his ears. "Thanks, partner," Mac murmured.

"You got it, brother," Jack said softly in return. He watched Mac for a moment, but the young man was already out and gave no sign that he'd heard. A smile ghosted across Jack's face as he flipped off the lights and left the room, carefully propping the door open so that he could hear if Mac needed him in the night.


	4. Chapter 4

_Here it is, the final chapter! Nothing but fluff and bromance, so fingers crossed you like that as much as I do. I hope you've all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it, and thank you so much for all of the encouraging feedback! -abby_

* * *

Scarcely four hours later Mac drifted awake. It took a minute to recognize his surroundings in the nearly pitch blackness. Once he realized where he was, he lay still for a long time just staring, unfocused, at the dark ceiling. He only vaguely recalled the previous evening, and things were especially hazy after dinner. Mac knew that Jack must have been responsible for getting him into bed at some point, and it frustrated him that he couldn't remember.

He closed his eyes, trying hard to ignore the discomfort radiating throughout his entire body. Mac knew he needed to rest and he felt exhausted, but couldn't seem to fall back to sleep. The initial few days of unconsciousness aside, he had hardly slept in the hospital, and had hoped that things would improve at home in a familiar bed. _Apparently not._

Mac shifted painfully, trying to find a more comfortable position. With some effort, he rolled from his back onto his uninjured right side, biting his lip and breathing through his swollen nose in an attempt to control the pain. _It must be time for more drugs,_ he thought. Jack had been relentless about his pain meds, and although it was annoying Mac did appreciate his friend's diligence. He glanced at the clock. _2:04 am. Definitely time for another round,_ Mac thought wearily. _Ow._

He wasn't about to wake Jack, who - after a protracted argument earlier in the day - had finally agreed to sleep in the guest room rather than on the floor by Mac's bed. Mac knew his partner needed to get a decent night of sleep too, probably even more than he did, since at the hospital Jack hadn't had the dubious advantage of morphine or even a flat sleeping surface.

Finally Mac gave up. He sighed, shoving back the covers and turning on the bedside lamp. He shivered in the cool night air, wincing as the movement jarred his tender ribs. His hoodie lay on the nightstand, no doubt placed there by Jack, and Mac shrugged it on as he slowly levered himself into a sitting position.

His crutches leaned against the wall and Mac reached for them, but it took a long moment for him to find the energy to try and stand. Every injury throbbed in time with his heart as he arranged the crutches and shakily managed to push to his feet. Once he had his balance Mac carefully made his way toward the kitchen, the last place he'd seen the bottle of meds. He tried to move quietly so that he didn't wake Jack, and it was slow going. He paused outside the guest room to catch his breath.

Suddenly he realized there was a muffled voice coming from inside. The door was ajar, so Mac leaned forward on his crutches and pushed it slightly inward. "Jack?" he queried softly, hobbling a few steps further into the room. "Jack, you okay?"

"No, please. _No._ " Jack was thrashing wildly, tangled in the sheets and clearly caught in the throes of an intense nightmare. "Look out! Mac! Don't do it, Mac. Please!"

MacGyver moved closer and leaned the crutches at the foot of the bed as he painfully eased down to sit alongside his friend. Jack continued jerking and talking, and Mac pondered his options. It was usually a bad idea to physically awaken anyone from such a deep sleep, but especially someone with Jack's training and reflexes. Mac knew he wasn't in any shape to block a punch, no matter how unintentional.

"Stop! Mac!" Jack's shouts were escalating in volume.

"Jack," Mac carefully avoided touching his friend. "Jack. Listen. I'm right here." He raised his voice a little. "Jack. _Jack._ Listen to me. It's Mac. I'm here, man."

When there was no response except for another distraught-sounding plea, Mac decided to take a risk and hoped he wouldn't painfully regret it. In one smooth movement he clasped Jack's right hand tightly in his own, thumb to thumb, and gripped Jack's shoulder with his left. "Jack," he said firmly, ignoring the flash of pain in his side. "Time to wake up."

The gamble paid off. As Mac had expected, Jack finally awakened with a sudden jerk. Thankfully he didn't come up swinging, but his flailing knocked Mac's crutches to the floor with a crash and he startled at the sound. "Mac?" he gasped. "You all right? What's goin' on?" He sat up on his elbows, squeezing the hand in his with a groggy, puzzled look on his face. "What're you doin' in here?"

Mac smiled thoughtfully and decided to play the long game. He knew it would be easier to get Jack talking if he softened the older man up a little first. "Couldn't sleep. Needed another round of meds, but didn't quite make it that far." He let go of Jack and gestured to his fallen crutches. "Think you can give me a hand?"

"You got it, brother." Without hesitation, Jack rolled out of bed on the opposite side and scooped up the crutches. "Here you go, partner. Careful," he advised, hooking one arm under Mac's and virtually lifting the other man upright. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Mac replied with a nod. He was hurting, misery thrumming through his body from his head to his toes, but he pushed it aside. He was more worried about Jack. MacGyver led the way to the kitchen with some difficulty, and he gratefully accepted his friend's assistance to sit down at the table.

Jack grabbed the bottle of prescription pills from the counter and tapped a few into his palm. "Here, bud," he offered them to Mac with a glass of water. "You look beat." Mac's color was still a few shades paler than normal, and in the dim lighting the bruising under his eyes stood out vividly.

Mac drained the glass as he swallowed the meds. "Haven't been sleeping too well," he reminded Jack. "Like someone else I know."

A brief expression of guilt flitted across Jack's face before he put on his most charming smile. "I'm sleepin' fine, brother. Don't know what you're talking about."

"Jack." Mac leveled his partner with a knowing look. "If I were having nightmares you'd insist I talk about it." He paused. "You were yelling my name."

Jack blew out a heavy breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. He sat down across the table and stared up at the ceiling as if he'd find some answers there. After a few moments he finally spoke. "You scared the hell out of me when you fell off that building," Jack admitted. "I mean, the chances anyone would survive a fall like that…" He trailed off.

"I know. But I didn't die, Jack. I'm alive, and I'm going to be fine." Mac shifted on the seat and flinched at the resulting twinge from his hip. He saw Jack tense and put a hand up to forestall the question. "It's okay. The pills are kicking in," he assured the older man.

"You should lie down," Jack said automatically.

"Probably, but don't change the subject," Mac shot back. "We were talking about you, remember?"

"I've had nightmares before, bud. You know that." Jack looked down at his hands.

"I do," Mac confirmed. "I've had plenty of them myself." He knew Jack wasn't done, so he simply sat quietly as the other man gathered his thoughts.

"I just...this was the first time I thought it was really over. Honestly, bud. I thought you were dead when you hit the ground. It scared me so bad." Jack shrugged, looking away. "Guess I'm having a hard time dealin' with the idea that I can't always protect you." He snorted mirthlessly and met MacGyver's eyes. "That's my one job in this outfit, you know? Fight off the bad guys so you can do your thing. I failed at it miserably this time, brother. I _failed_ , and you nearly died."

Mac reached out and squeezed his friend's arm gently. "Jack, I am not your "one job". You didn't fail at anything. We're partners, remember? We're supposed to watch each other's backs. It's not a one-way street." He grinned. "And I don't always make it easy on you. Remember how you told me I better not go into that warehouse alone?"

Jack chuckled in spite of himself. "That is true, I did say that. Wait, _you_ remember I said that?" Thanks to the concussion, Mac's memories of the hours leading up to the fall were still spotty at best. He hadn't been able to recall much past their arrival in London.

"Actually, no." Mac admitted with a smile. "But I know you." Encouraged by his friend's faint smile, he continued, "There wasn't anything you could have done to prevent this, Jack. If I'd listened to you maybe it wouldn't have happened, but either way - I'm going to be okay." He looked Jack straight in the eye as he added somberly, "And it won't happen again."

"You promise? Because I don't think my heart can take this kind of stress," Jack pointed out.

Mac braced a hand firmly against his left side as he laughed. "I know, old man," he teased affectionately. "And I do promise to never get thrown off a building again. Because it really sucks."

"I thought you were promising to not ignore me!" Jack protested.

Mac shook his head with a grin. "I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

Jack cracked up. "You're incorrigible."

"I learned from the best," Mac replied cheerfully.

After a minute the two men sobered. "I mean it, Jack. You've _always_ been there for me. This time was no different," Mac said earnestly.

Jack shrugged, but didn't reply.

"I'm absolutely serious. There's no one I'd trust more to watch my back. You know that."

"Yeah," Jack finally relented. "I know. I'm just so sorry you got hurt, brother."

"Me too," Mac agreed, "but like I said, it isn't your fault and I'm going to be good as new. Eventually." He regarded his friend pensively. "What about you?"

Jack took a deep breath, clapping his hands against his thighs as he stood. "I'm good," he said decisively, and Mac actually believed him. The older man squeezed Mac's shoulder gently. "Now let's get you back to bed before you fall asleep right here."

Mac suddenly realized he was swaying in the chair, no doubt thanks to the combination of pain pills and the late hour. He squinted at the clock. _3:07 am. No wonder._ "The couch is closer," he suggested, counting on Jack to follow suit.

Sure enough, once Jack had helped his friend get settled in the den, he flopped on the other sofa. "I think I'll just rest here in case you need anything," he said casually.

Mac nodded, closing his eyes. After a few minutes he started to drift, but didn't let himself doze. Even with his eyes closed Mac could feel Jack studying him intently, and fought the encroaching exhaustion to silently wait. He deliberately slowed his breathing in the hopes that once Jack thought he was out, the older man would finally unwind enough to get some decent rest.

Jack watched MacGyver for a long time, relieved to see that the injured man looked relatively comfortable. He sighed heavily. Jack had been so worried about his partner for days that he'd hardly had a chance to come down off the initial adrenaline rush, but it seemed that somehow their talk had done the trick. He could feel himself crashing and his eyelids grew impossibly heavy.

He really had planned to stay awake for a while in case Mac needed him, but Jack quickly realized that was a losing battle. Reluctantly, he relaxed into the thick cushions and allowed his eyes to close. Comforted by the sound of Mac's congested breaths, despite his best intentions Jack soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. And after a few minutes, for the first time in over a week, he started to snore.

Across the room, MacGyver smiled in satisfaction. _Mission accomplished._


End file.
